


Wash Over You

by matan4il



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hugs, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24913369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matan4il/pseuds/matan4il
Summary: There's a certain rhythm to their hugs. Like ocean waves, coming and going, reaching the shore and pulling back into themselves only to change direction midway through, retreat and charge at the golden sands again.Prompt fill for the amazingSibbed, who asked for fluff and cuddles. This is for the good days as well as for the other times, my lovely friend. xoxox
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 177





	Wash Over You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adamngoodbatch (sibbed)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sibbed/gifts).



> Thank you so much for the help with this fic to the lovely [Lana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DLanaDHZ/pseuds/DLanaDHZ) and [Toughpaperround](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToughPaperRound/pseuds/ToughPaperRound) for the help with this little piece of fluff while my brain's still particularly bad due to vertigo...

There's a certain rhythm to their hugs. Like ocean waves, coming and going, reaching the shore and pulling back into themselves only to change direction midway through, retreat and charge at the golden sands again. 

Buck figures it's because they were friends first. The way they move together around the house, it is and has been easy and familiar from the get go, so hugs never became a separate thing from it. Those simply grew into their everyday. Here, Buck boils some eggs for the lunch he's making for the three of them and Eddie passes from behind him, slips arms around him for a squeeze of a hug, then continues to Christopher's room, to help his son with his homework. There, Eddie's struggling with the lawnmower and refuses Buck's offer to help, but still enjoys the momentary embrace before his boyfriend re-enters their home.

Most of the time, to be accurate. Most of the time, it's not a separate thing, their hugs simply co-exist with their day to day lives like a golden string that's been weaved subtly into every one of their routine actions. 

But sometimes they come back from a rough shift or Buck wakes up in a particularly good mood on one of their days off or a sudden memory means Eddie just can't believe that life has given him a second chance at happiness despite all the ways he's messed things up before. On those occasions, they end up on the sofa, snuggled together. They don't say anything in particular to start this off, one would just slip their arms around the other's standing figure and wouldn't let go until they fall into a mutual embrace and stay like that, in whatever spot they are, and one gives a small tug in the direction of the sofa. It's not that big as far as living room furniture goes, but they sprawl out on it and let their cuddles take up all the needed space. Eddie's one hand often plays with Buck's curls, which he secretly thinks are beautiful, though he will never confess it aloud. There's a subtle purr that he gets in reaction, never too audible, he feels it in their chests pressed together more than he hears it. And Buck likes running the tips of his fingers over Eddie's arms, drawing patterns leisurely and loves letting himself bask in the scent of the man he adores.

When they first started wordlessly ending up on the couch cuddling together, Chris was never there, either fast asleep in his bed or not at home at all. It was easier that way, the mantle of parenthood could be discarded for a while and they would be free to drown in each other without a care in the world. 

Not lately, though. Not since that morning when Buck and Eddie were exhausted from staying up too late the night before and took comfort in each other's arms on the sofa, without realizing they would slip into a sweet nap like that. Christopher had wandered in from his room, not woken up by them, but still awake by force of habit. Most kids would have probably opted for waking their parents up and demanding attention and entertainment. Not Chris. He put his crutches aside and did his best to climb onto the couch with them. Buck was the first one to stir, registered what he was attempting and easily pulled him up to join them. Their son fit right into the dip between their bodies, his head resting on Eddie's chest as if it were a pillow, his hand thrown over Buck's side, who draped his own arm over the two most precious people in his life.

Buck's always been a very open and emotional guy, not in every context, but he had no problem expressing how he felt. One time, Hen wondered if it wasn't hard for him, being with Eddie, whose verbal affections were limited, as far as their team could tell. Buck smiled at that and reassured her he was fine. He had no urge to explain more than that, because for all of his verbal abilities, how could he ever put into words what Eddie's touch meant? How loved Buck felt whenever he was wrapped in it, whether for a brief second, out of nowhere, as he went about his day, happy and secure in the knowledge that his boyfriend can't pass him by on a mundane task without wanting that momentary hug, or when they're huddled together in the living room, content to simply be breathing each other in during their tight embrace.

And then there's the more intimate variety. Whether it was heated hugs that led to more or holding each other tighter than strictly needed during sex or falling asleep in each other's arms, so intertwined that it was hard to imagine how they could separate their limbs in the morning. 

The best thing about their hugs is that, whatever the specific reason for one, in whatever form it may take, the truth is that they need no real rationale for it. Good days are made better by their hugs. Other times are made lighter, more bearable. The circle that they form when they hold on to one another is not a necessary one, but it is there, constant and powerful. The ocean doesn't need a reason to lap at the shore. The sands can go on without the waves. Yet, there they are, in their eternal interplay, a never ending game of wooing and giving and receiving, making the world more beautiful simply by existing within it.


End file.
